


The Fall

by kristsune



Series: The Stranger and the Sky [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Crisis, M/M, Self Loathing, Stranger!Tim, and mike is not very good with words, but its a lot to work through, mentions of danny and the circus, mike does what he can, tim is having a very not good day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Mike comes home to Tim having a bad day and does what he can to comfort him.
Relationships: Michael "Mike" Crew/Tim Stoker
Series: The Stranger and the Sky [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583236
Comments: 16
Kudos: 77





	The Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HowShouldIKnowboutLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowShouldIKnowboutLife/gifts).



> This is 100% thanks to [ El, ](https://howshouldiknowboutlife.tumblr.com/) her enabling, and my absolute love of this pairing. 
> 
> Part of the scene is inspired by [this art](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/post/186387913714/moncrieff-the-fall-detail-alan-stephens) because it has always made me feel Some Kind Of Way, and it honestly fit perfectly. Even the size difference feels very accurate. The title of the fic also is from the art.

Mike walked into his flat. All the lights were off, which wasn’t entirely unusual, but Tim had been staying with him for a few weeks, and he was supposed to be home. They had been staying together a lot the past few months. It was… nicer than Mike had expected. He hadn’t been anything but on his own for so long, he wasn’t sure he would enjoy being in the company of another person for any length of time. But Tim was different, they meshed together well, and had similar enough habits as to not severely annoy the other. It wasn’t perfect, but it was going surprisingly well. Tim would occasionally leave for days on end, when he got restless and needed to move (Mike offered to take him places, but Tim would just say he needed to use his own legs for a while.) But he always came back. 

Mike was starting to think this just must be one of the times he was out (though Tim usually said something, or left a note), except when he turned the corner to the living room he almost jumped out of his skin (perhaps not the best metaphor, considering) seeing Tim sat in the dark room, a single slash of light from a mostly closed curtain crossing his form. 

“ _ Christ _ , Tim. I know you’re unnaturally quiet now, but you’ve  _ got _ to give a guy some warning.” Mike complained as he dropped his things in the other chair. He looked up when Tim didn’t answer, which was  _ extremely _ unusual; he always had a quip, or one liner, or a hand to his waist or even just a pleasant greeting. But Tim hadn’t moved.  _ At all _ . One of the abilities he gained from the I Do Not Know You, was that Uncanny stillness; not being able to tell whether he was alive or just another strangely realistic mannequin. 

Tim was just sat there, leaning forward in the chair, elbows resting on his thighs as he stared at his hands, light crossing along the line of where his Uncanny hand was attached.

“Tim? Are you quite alright?” Mike stepped forward, stopping in front of Tim, within arms reach, but not yet reaching out. 

“Who am I?  _ What _ am I?” Tim’s voice was just above a whisper, and he still hadn’t otherwise moved. “I researched, and hunted, and fought tooth and nail against the Stranger, against what stole my brother from me, and now? Now I’m  _ part _ of it. I use its power to stay… not alive surely, but I’m not really dead either, am I? I’m just  _ existing _ thanks to a horrible eldritch entity that I spent  _ years _ hating. I’m glad none of what was left of Danny survived, because I would never want him to see me like this. Not that there was anything left of what I knew of him when I blew up that godforsaken museum.” 

Tim’s voice had gotten progressively more raw and ragged as he went on; Mike had never heard him quite like this. Tim had confided in him about what happened to Danny one vulnerable night, and Mike had shared some of his own trauma in return. That exchange of experience and pain brought them closer, and helped them understand each other that much more. 

Mike reached out and placed his hand on Tim’s cheek, feeling the wet tracks of where tears had been falling without a sound (Mike hadn’t been aware Tim  _ could _ still cry), and gently tilted his head until he was facing him. 

“Please, Mike, take me away from here. I just want to fall, and not feel anymore.” Tim sounded so  _ broken _ , Mike knew he needed to do something to help. He wished he was better with words, but he never really had been.

He brushed his thumb across Tim’s cheek, wiping away the tears there. “I’m not sure this is entirely what you need, but if you want, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” 

Tim closed his eyes and leaned into his touch, “Anywhere. Anywhere with you.” 

Mike leaned in close, keeping one hand on his cheek and running the other running through his hair and cradling the back of his head and gently leaned Tim back. Mike could remember a time when at least one of Tim’s arms would reflexively reach back, to attempt to brace his fall; but he didn’t do that anymore. Tim trusted Mike  _ implicitly _ , knowing he wouldn’t cause him any real harm. This time both of Tim’s arms reached up and wrapped around his waist as Mike sent them falling into the neverending blue sky. 

Rather than backing off and either just falling hand in hand or something of the like, Mike instead curled up so he was nestled against Tim’s chest. He tucked his face against Tim’s neck, knowing how much he loved that, knowing that Mike was giving up his view of the Vast, to comfort him; to physically show how much Tim meant to him. Mike left a kiss against Tim’s neck, “I’m glad you’re here.” Mike knew it was completely insufficient, but it was all he could think of to say, not to mention it happened to be true. 

Tim wrapped his arms around Mike, holding him close as he buried his face in his windblown hair. Mike could hear Tim’s reply, just above the sound of the rushing wind, “Thank you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to stop by and say hi over on [tumblr!](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/)


End file.
